


Totally Screwed

by Flufflybunnypants



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker Dean, Gen, Student Sam, Teacher Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flufflybunnypants/pseuds/Flufflybunnypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on tumblr:<br/> i really want to elaborate my thoughts rn (like Cas thinking that Sam is the most precious thing in the world, sitting in the front row of his lecture every week, and Dean meeting and flirting with Cas in a totally unrelated setting, and then Dean showing up to Sam’s class to sit in and bug him because they have plans immediately after, and Cas and Dean recognize each other, and Cas becomes all flustered that he has a crush on two brothers!!)-samndeanaremyplaythings</p>
<p>I may not have completely followed it to a T, but it's mostly all there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Totally Screwed

Castiel’s Religious Iconography class isn’t as empty as it usually is. There is a group of girls wearing visible silver crosses. The group of kids sit in the far back with hipster glasses.There’s a willowy girl with bright red hair, who’s whispering something to an ethereally elegant woman. There’s a dark haired girl who’s drawing with quick angry motions. Front and center is a short Asian kid who’s grinning as he’s squished under the arm of a lanky man wearing what looks like three layers of horridly clashing plaid. As the man sits back in his own seat, Castiel is suddenly very concerned with his ability to teach this class. This boy’s hair is shaggy, with the most adorable bangs brushing the bridge of his nose. He looks suddenly nervous, chewing on the lower lip piercing on the right side of his mouth, and Castiel realizes he’s been staring.  
He shakes himself and claps his hands to get the attention of the class. He pulls up his slides and begins, avoiding the intense eyes of the floppy haired boy. The kids all take notes, with the Asian boy choosing an absurd fuchsia pen for his notes. It’s a decent mix of theology and art students, and Castiel can’t help but to wonder which category the pretty boy falls into. None of the students on his roster have the under eighteen mark next to them, so that’s…interesting. 

Afterwards, Castiel decides to walk home in the warm fall sun. The bus is too crowded to bother with on such a nice day. He comes upon a bakery, one he hasn’t seen before. Gabriel’s unfortunate influence on his early years means he must visit at least once. The inside is nice, no frills or pink in sight, but empty. The colors are fairly muted, but the wheat-colored walls make the place feel warm.

"Evenin’," a man in the corner booth drawls. Castiel does not startle or clutch his briefcase tighter. He definitely doesn’t choke down a girly scream.

The man makes his way behind the counter and smiles. It’s devastating, brilliant and sharp, and Castiel feels himself smile in response. The man has freckles and cute smile lines at the corners of his bright green eyes.

"I’m going to guess and say you’re a black coffee man aaaaaaand…streusel muffin?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Frankly he’d eat anything Green-Eyes handed him. The man reaches up into the cupboards behind him, revealing a slice of skin. The man is a little pudgy, something soft about him, something welcoming in his body language. Castiel wants to sink his teeth into that skin, mark it. For the second time that day, he shakes himself out of his trance and takes the proffered coffee and muffin, walking away rapidly hide his interest.

The next semester is frustrating, wonderful torture. He learns the boy’s name. And a few other things. Sam Winchester, Castiel finds, looks especially sweet when he lets Kevin clip his hair back with flower hairclips so he can draw during the mid-class break. He’s an art student, and his figure drawings are impeccable. Castiel thinks he sometimes sees a sketch resembling him, but then Sam flings an arm over it and starts fiddling with his hair. He sits in the front row without fail, leaning half his body over the desk towards the projector. Castiel misses his eager attitude and thoughtful questions on the days off.

The bakery man introduces himself as Dean when he asks for Castiel’s name to write on his cup during a busy lunch hour. Castiel has begun to drop by with alarming(if you’re his bank account) frequency.

"I’m Castiel."

"I’m gonna abbreviate that to Cas, okay?" Dean smiles broadly as he pens it in neatly.

"That’s—that’s fine. I like it," he stammers. What a fool he chastises himself.

Dean explains one evening that he moved here with his brother and best friend, and opened the bakery alone. He gets up early to make the baked goods(and offers Cas a taste-test for all the new ones, watching him intently as he tries them). He’s got a giant of a man, Benny, helping him on some days. Cas does not like Benny. So, yeah, that might be the jealousy speaking, but still. Benny is too…big. Yeah, that’s the problem.

Somehow, Cas is pining after two people, one of whom is probably not wholly age-appropriate. Still, he might have a better chance with Sam. The boy is interested, intelligent, and he doesn’t flirt with everyone. Dean could—and would—probably charm the pants off of, well, Benny. (Cas spares a moment to seethe at the thought.)

When the semester ends, Cas still has no answers. He drops into the bakery on his way home, wishing he had paired a scarf with his habitual trench coat, his nose all red from the cold. As soon as the bell jingles, Dean calls out, “Heya Cas!” He’s besieged at the counter by hordes of people who were ill-prepared for this miserable weather.

"Hello Dean," Cas sighs, rubbing at his poor frozen face with even colder hands.

"Shit, man, sit down. It’s a mess out there today."

Cas obediently goes to his favorite booth, looking outwards to the darkening skies.

"Hey Dean," a familiar voice says, "Benny says we don’t have any more of the mango-infusion tea thing." 

Cas turns to see Sam Winchester in a holiday themed apron, his hair scraped into a tiny ponytail. Right next to Dean.

"Okay, we’ll get it later. Can you take this coffee to Cas?" Dean gestures with his head towards Cas.

Sam looks, and looks, and looks. He snaps back to Dean, waves charmingly at the people at the counter, “Just a minute, folks,” and hauls Dean to the side. There’s some fierce muttering, some unsubtle pointing fingers, and arms thrown skyward in the universal WTF gesture. Then, abruptly, they both straighten up and walk back the front counter with matching pleasant smiles. They work efficiently and rapidly, whirling around each other without dropping a thing, and somehow making sure every customer feels like the center of their attention. Cas shrinks, settling his head into his hands. Too much heart, Castiel, the familial voice reminds him. Shut up, he tells it, though without much conviction.

There’s a soft tap on the table, and a mug and a muffin on a napkin are set on the tabletop. Cas looks up to see a red apron walking away.

He takes a tentative sip of the coffee—it’s as perfect as it always is—and lifts his muffin to take a bite. That’s when he notices something folded under the napkin. He pulls out a sheet of binder paper. It’s definitely Sam’s notes, from one of the early iconography lectures. The notes only take half the page, because underneath in large lettering it reads

(In pink ink with a blue strikethrough) You have the hots for Professor Novak.

(Blue ink) Shut up.

Cas recognizes Kevin and Sam’s handwriting. Below that is Dean’s handwriting, done in his ever-present sharpie.

Our number: 1-866-907-3235

-Winchester Brothers

P.S. we get the mistletoe in next week ;)

The word brothers is a little wobbly and half-smudged. Cas has fallen for a pair of brothers. He’s screwed. He looks up to see them leaning against the counter and they wink in synchrony. 

He could learn to like being screwed…


End file.
